


Knitting in the Bunker

by Ordered_Chaos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bees, Drabble, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Gen, Knitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10477539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ordered_Chaos/pseuds/Ordered_Chaos
Summary: Dean didn't know Cas could knit. Cas offers to teach him.





	

“Are you knitting?” Dean asks when he finally realizes what Cas is doing.

He’s just walked into the war room, where Cas sits with Dean’s computer open and a frown on his face. His hands are full of blue knitting needles, three different skeins of yarn, and something small Dean can’t fully see.

“Yes,” Cas answers absently. He squints at the screen, then back at the thing in his hand.

“You _knit_?”

“Yes.”

He sounds preoccupied, so Dean goes to make himself a burger. When he comes back, there’s a huge smile on Cas’ face that’s even more surprising than finding the angel knitting at the table.

“What is it?” Dean asks, trying to see what Cas has in his hands.

The page up on the screen is full of gibberish knitting instructions that look more like some sort of CIA code than a grandmother’s hobby.

Cas opens his hand, his eyes alight. And Dean sees…

The cutest damn thing.

It’s a tiny knitted bee. Its soft body is striped black and yellow, with floppy white wings sticking out on each side. It’s even got a miniscule stinger made of black fuzz.

“You made that?” Dean asks. He can’t imagine a warrior’s hands creating something so small and intricate. He knows his couldn’t.

“I was having trouble with the wings,” Cas says. “They were harder to attach than I expected.”

Dean reaches out to it, but pulls his hand back. He’s suddenly afraid of breaking it. Cas smiles lovingly at the bee.

“I didn’t know you could knit,” Dean says, because Cas’ happy silence is making him feel lost.

Cas nods. “Since I Fell. I learned then. To pass the time.”

Dean swallows. “I’m impressed, dude. That shit’s complicated.”

“This was,” Cas says, placing the tiny bee gently on the table. “But in general no.”

“No?”

“I could teach you a simple stitch,” Cas offers. “It can be very relaxing.”

Dean isn’t so sure his hands will be up to it. “What if I break it?”

“The needles are metal. And yarn is surprisingly durable.” Cas squints up at him, waiting for an answer. Dean clears his throat.

“Fine, okay. Yeah. But it probably won’t work.”

“I’ve seen your hands, Dean,” Cas says, picking up the lurid yellow yarn and his two needles. “You are more than capable.”

“Geez, are you flirting with me?” Dean jokes.

Cas stares at him for a long moment, then ties a slipknot with the end of the yarn. “This is to cast-on,” he says. He puts the needle through the eye of the knot and pulls it tight. “We’ll start with just fifteen stitches.”

He loops the yarn around his hand, then puts the needle through again. When he pulls his hand out, there’s another stitch waiting on the needle.

“Wait, how’d you do that?” Dean asks.

Cas shows him again. Dean watches the stitches on the needle multiply. It’s clever linework. Cas does five of them, then holds out the needle to Dean.

It’s simpler than he’d expected. It’s all about manipulating the string, and that’s something he’s known since he was old enough to tie his shoes. He casts ten more stitches onto the needle, and is surprised by how quickly his hands pick up the motion. Cas is right; this is relaxing.

“Now I’ll show you the actual stitch.”

“That wasn’t it?”

“No that was just casting-on.” Cas takes the other needle off the table. “Here.”

Dean hands the fledgling piece back over. Cas demonstrates how to do the stitch, and Dean watches closely.

“There are ways to remember this,” Cas says, doing a second stitch. “Mnemonics and such. But none of them work for me.”

“That’s okay,” Dean says, completely intrigued by the motion of Cas’ fingers tangling expertly through the yarn. “I probably wouldn’t remember it anyway.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Cas says quietly enough that Dean doesn’t have to respond. He’s grateful.

“Alright, let me try,” he says, trying to hide his excitement. Cas hands over the needles again.

Carefully, Dean puts the free needle through. That was the first step. But he quickly gets tangled.

“Hang on. What’d I do? Oh, shit.”

“Let me see.”

“I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re learning.”

Cas gently takes Dean’s hand. “It has to go between those two strands. See?” Dean does. He nods, his face flushed with shame.

“I’m no good at these things.”

“Put the needle through there, Dean.” There’s a sternness in Cas’ voice that makes Dean sigh. He doesn’t want to disappoint Cas more, so he just threads the needle through. Cas guides his other hand around, pointing out where he needs to loop the yarn.

“Now pull.”

Dean does…and produces one clean stitch.

“Whoa.” He holds it up, looking closer. “I did it! Look at that!”

Cas smiles back at him. “Do another.”

Dean does, carefully repeating the steps Cas had just walked him through. His hands find it easier this time. There’s a pattern they can follow, muscle memory like reloading a gun.

Growing more confident, he ties another stitch, then a third and fourth. He glances up at Cas, who’s watching his face with a small smile. His eyes drop back to the knitting when Dean looks up.

“You’re doing very well,” Cas says.

“Thanks,” Dean replies.

He finishes the row and automatically switches hands.

“You’re a natural,” Cas says as Dean finishes his second row.

Dean’s smiling stupidly now. He’s got two lines of damn-fine knitting in his hands, and each stitch comes easier than the last.

Then he realizes that he’s stolen Cas’ needles, and he’s just sitting there, turning the tiny bee over and over in his hands.

“Sorry,” Dean says.

He hands his knitting over to Cas.

“For what?”

Dean laughs, stands and cracks his back. “I stole your knitting. You can go back to bees.”

He picks up his long-cold burger.

“I enjoyed this, Dean,” Cas says.

“Hey, me too,” Dean tells him honestly. “Gotta get myself a pair of knitting needles.

Cas beams at him.

He does just that the next time he drives into Lebanon on a beer run. There’s a modest craft store in the town’s little strip mall. Dean browses the shelves, glad there aren’t any grannies here today to glare at him for invading their territory—or worse, act like he’s something special for wanting to knit or something. He’s not, really. He’s just a guy who likes doing stuff with his hands. And hey, knitting needles are pretty badass. You could totally put someone’s eye out with one. He’s pretty sure he’s seen a movie where that happened….

He ends up with two slender black needles and a skein of blue yarn. It’s the softest fucking thing he’s ever touched. There must be yarn scientists out there researching how to make softer yarn, because no way this shit’s natural.

He makes small talk with the cashier while she rings him out. She tries to get him to take a pamphlet about a knitting class that meets on Tuesdays, but he brushes it off. He gets back in the Impala and continues to the grocery store.

Between the next two hunts, Dean practices. The stitch is coming effortlessly now. He’s honestly surprised that he’s managed to pick up this skill. His hands were usually reserved for destruction…or driving.

He shows Cas the first scarf he makes. Cas runs his hands over it and tells Dean it’s flawless, even though there were several times Dean fucked up in the first few rows, and that part of the scarf is blemished and kinked.

“I’m impressed, Dean. And I have something for you.”

That makes Dean wary, because he’s really not used to receiving gifts. But Cas just holds out his hand and puts something soft and small into Dean’s palm.

It’s that tiny knitted bee. Dean swallows. Cas has sewn a loop of black thread onto the bee’s back, between its wings.

“I thought you could hang it from the mirror in the Impala,” Cas says nervously. He won’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“I will, Cas,” Dean says. “I’ll go put it there right now.”

He does just that, working the thread around the mirror and then tying it so it can’t ever fall off. When he backs out of the car, Cas is standing there with a smile on his face. Dean’s own smile grows, and they laugh.

Not to be one-upped, Dean begins his own project. He buys more yarn than he ever thought he’d touch, as well as other supplies he’ll need. He bookmarks the instructions on his computer, and then hides it in his porn folder so that no one will find it.

He works tirelessly for weeks. In all honesty, the project is definitely beyond his skill. But he’s determined and he gets it done.

The day he finishes, he picks up his creation and punches it into a less lumpy shape. He should probably redo it better, or at least fix it up a little, but the excitement of success makes him leave his room with it clutched against his chest.

“Cas?” he calls.

“Hmm?” Cas replies. It sounds like he’s in the library. Dean finds him sitting immersed in a stack of books.

Dean holds out his gift. Cas stares at him.

“Is that— _Dean._ ”

It’s a knitted bee, just like the one that’s now been hanging in the Impala for a month. But it’s massive. The whole thing is a little bigger than a pillow. The stinger is as big as Dean’s hand, and its wings are the size of hand towels.

Cas reaches out for it, takes it in his arms.

“You made this?” he asks.

Dean feels a rush of vulnerability that makes him want to grab the bee back and disappear into his room forever. But he stands his ground because he’s a grown man, dammit.

“I had a little bit of trouble,” he says. “You’re right. The wings are a bitch.”

Cas’ hand brushes over them as he speaks. “It’s beautiful.” His voice is rough.

Dean looks away because he can feel his face turning embarrassing colors. “You can have it. If you want it.”

“Dean, I couldn’t,” Cas says. “This must have been so difficult.”

“It was nothin’. I want you to have it.”

Cas looks up at him. Then he nods. “Alright.”

Dean grins. “You want pancakes? I’m gonna make pancakes.”

“Yeah,” Cas says. “I’ll just go put this….” He trails off, leaving the library.

Dean thinks about the bee in the Impala, and hopes Cas puts his gift somewhere special.

A little bit later, as he’s passing Cas’ room, he sees the bee standing guard on Cas’ pillow. The blankets are neatly made up, but rumpled, as though Cas was lying on them. Dean’s not really a tracker, but he’s pretty sure, from the imprint of Cas’ body, that he was lying on his bed with at least one arm wrapped around the bee.

Dean smiles and wonders what he should try to knit next.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you want to knit your own tiny (or huge) bee:  
> http://www.chemknits.com/2009/11/bzzzzzzz-knit-bumble-bee.html


End file.
